


A River

by spun809



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Gen, Song Inspired, ghost!Reader, i guess, implied suicide, sad mostly, set in season 11
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-16
Updated: 2017-03-16
Packaged: 2018-10-06 01:05:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10322015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spun809/pseuds/spun809
Summary: Lyrics are from River by Leon Bridges





	

A crack split the stony silence, as a chair splintered against the libraries wall, papers flew in every direction making them flutter around Dean like a strange kind of rain. Downing the shot of whisky, he flung the tumbler on the floor. Glass spraying everywhere. Pausing briefly sensing that everything within arms reach was thoroughly destroyed, he slumped onto the floor, reaching back behind him his hands fumbled for the bottle of liquor and since his glass was gone he drank huge swallows straight from it. 

_Been traveling these wide roads for so long  
My heart’s been far from you  
Ten-thousand miles gone_

_Oh, I wanna come near and give ya  
Every part of me  
But there’s blood on my hands  
And my lips aren’t clean _

The destruction and pure rage of his outburst used to make you cower, but you sensed that it wasn’t necessary this time. Watching his face, it flickered from the flame of anger into the blackness of despair. He was still beautiful even with all of the pain contorting his features. You just stood there watching him. 

He just kept drinking, the bottle had been almost full at the beginning of the day and even though you weren’t sure exactly how much time had passed you could see there were only a few drinks left. Thinking about time made you wonder where Sam could be, obviously not in the bunker, because the sound of Dean would have caught his attention. 

Fingers wound themselves around your shoulder and had you drawing your eyes from Dean. You didn’t jump at the touch, already knowing who was standing there. 

“Hi Billie,” you said turning towards her. 

She appraised you with little sympathy, but you didn’t really blame her. It wasn’t what you were after anyway. 

“So you know what I am then?” She asked. 

You nodded, the boys had told you all about reapers and more specifically about Billy’s hard line on life and death. No second chances. 

_In my darkness I remember  
Momma’s words reoccur to me  
“Surrender to the good Lord  
And he’ll wipe your slate clean” _

“Can I ask you something before we go?” Figuring reapers had a way of sensing things that were happening in multiple places. 

At her nod you continued. 

“Where is Sam?” Clearly in your state you were tied to the bunker specifically for whatever reason and there was no wandering off to go find the other Winchester on your own. 

It surprised you that her face softened, you could tell from the amount of times you did interrogations with the boys that she was close to cracking this facade of apathy towards your situation. 

“Do you really want to know?” her face indicated that you probably didn’t. 

Your curiosity was piqued, if this was going to be your last few moments connected to the real world, you just wanted to get a last look at Sam. “Yeah I do.” Feeling you were being crunched all over, like a massive pressure, only lasting for a split second. Then you were standing outside, the sunlight felt like it was going right through you and in that moment you actually felt ghostly, less substantial than humanity. 

Trees were scattered around, it was a cemetery, with the gray slabs scattered in every direction from where you stood. You had seen many, but this particular one stood out to you. A clawing of emotion swept through you, if had been any other grave yard it would have made sense. This was horrific. 

As Billy started to stride away from the spot you showed up calling back to where you were frozen, “he’s over here.” It wasn’t necessary, you knew where he was at the minute you had recognized the place. Jogging behind her until you were side by side you kept a brisk pace, following the black asphalt, veering off towards one of the headstones. 

Even hunched over it was obvious it was Sam, his hair looking kind of unwashed and his clothes were rumpled. Getting closer to him you could see the outline of his face, where stubble had begun to grow, it made you think maybe more time had passed than you had guessed. Watching him a tear dropped off the edge of his chin and splattered against the edge of cool grey marble. 

_Tip me in your smooth waters  
I go in  
As a man with many crimes  
Come up for air  
As my sins flow down the Jordan_

_Oh, I wanna come near and give ya  
Every part of me  
But there’s blood on my hands  
And my lips aren’t clean _

“Why is he here, is Mary ok?” You didn’t bother looking back at Billie you were still studying Sam’s face. The way that his hair was picking up the light it gave him a halo around the crown of his head. He was mumbling words but his lips were basically talking into the gravestone making it impossible to tell what he was saying. It wasn’t like a prayer, more like he was talking directly to the person buried there. 

“Nope all the Winchesters are fine, or alive I should say.” Billie was being actively unhelpful. 

Turning towards her, “Ok so what is the deal? That is Mary Winchester’s grave. I know it.” Your frustration was building, “I have been here Billie, why is Sam here?” 

Rolling her eyes she just pointed at Sam, calling out the obvious. 

“I know who Sam is, I haven’t been dead that long.” 

“Just look at the grave y/n, really look at it,” she said clearly seeing you weren’t catching on. 

Bending right beside Sam, you realized how a spirit that stayed on earth became angry, not being able to touch him had you dying all over again. Scanning the piece of rock again more carefully you understood. It was yours, right next to where Mary would have been. She was out walking around with a headstone to remember her death by but you were just gone with nothing left but a meaningless relic as a reminder you ever lived at all. 

Aching to touch Sam, you wanted to push the hair away from his eyes. It had been a mistake. The Winchesters would sacrifice everything for one more second with each other, and you had thrown it away because you were sad. It was so petty. There wasn’t anything waiting for you, every person you loved was tired and miserable completely alone because you couldn’t go to the trouble of waking up everyday. 

“I do love you, ok Sammy?” breathing the words gently into Sam’s ear, he didn’t even turn towards you. Just kept talking down at the place where your body was slowly rotting underneath six feet of muddy dirt. 

_Wanna know, wanna know, wanna know  
Wanna go, wanna go, wanna go  
Wanna know, wanna know, wanna know_

_Take me to your river  
I wanna go  
Lord, please let me know  
Take me to your river  
I wanna know _

“Lets just go Billie,” you said.

Whiteness descended over you as she grabbed your hand.

**Author's Note:**

> Lyrics are from River by Leon Bridges


End file.
